Chapter Six

Spike watched the children with deeply hidden glee. The boys were chattering like magpies, happy to have the freedom and be allowed to ride, and in spite of himself Spike was enjoying himself. Of course he kept that tidbit to himself.

The horse Spike was riding was a beautiful white stallion that stood seventeen hands high. If they had been on Earth, he would have guessed him to be of Arab breeding by his clean lines and smooth gait, but the stallion was remarkably even tempered and only aggressive when attacked. Of course, the horse being white had given him a reason to complain, so he had named the poor stud Buffy. An evil grin curled his lips as he realized that now he could say he’d rode Buffy’s arse all day and then shagged her arse all night.

Once they were away from the wagons, he and the boys made good time. They easily reached the village in an hour—if you could call four farmers’ shacks, a barn, and a run down inn a ‘town’.

Bloody hell, Spike thought. Not even a one-horse town.

As he and his party neared the village, Spike realized that he was wrong as he caught sight of several horses behind a group of arguing demons. Since the horses were saddled, he was sure it meant the village had other visitors.

The arguing demons paid the newcomers no mind as they drew to a halt. The two that were doing most of the arguing was a red skinned demon that stood about six feet tall, and a green skinned, green haired demon with a beard that hung to his waist that stood over eight feet tall. The two seemed about to come to blows when suddenly the taller of the two spun and asked Spike, “What do you want, human?”

The white headed vampire nearly chortled with glee as he felt unseen restraints lifted from him. Oh, yeah, this one I can kill!

Spike slipped his right leg over his saddle and almost floated to the ground before gliding as gracefully as a hunting cat to stand face to…chest with the green-skinned demon.

“The name is Spike,” he said before slipping into game face and continuing to speak very slowly, as if to a not overly bright child. “I’m a vampire. William the Bloody? Slayer of Slayers? The Black Knight?”

“You? You are the Black Knight?” The green one started laughing. “You are a piss ant.”

“Piss ant?” To those who knew him well, Spike’s question would have been all the more terrifying by his calm, almost humorous tone. His left hand shot out, hitting the green skinned demon in the stomach. The green one let out an explosion of air, and as he bent forward, Spike calmly grabbed a pointy ear in either hand and twisted. This resulted in the demon being able to see behind him for the seconds it took Spike to reverse his grip and continue twisting his head off.

“Piss ant?” he calmly asked greenies followers.

If William the Bloody were to teach a class in fighting, the first thing he would teach would be that plans never work and to expect the unexpected. Killing the leader in such a blasé manner was a calculated move, one meant to strike fear into his enemy’s hearts. He had used the move for over a hundred years and it had always worked…until now.

The demon’s followers took one look at their downed leader and started drawing weapons. With nine to one odds, the Warriors for the Light might have been down one hero. However, young Matthew, seeing his leader weaponless against such odds, drew the gladius from his saddle scabbard and spurred his horse forward, intending to give the weapon to his leader.

If it had ended there, then the lad’s bravery might very well have cost him his life, but his steed was a trained warhorse and being spurred into the middle of a fight, she attacked. Midnight was the herd’s alpha mare and once she attacked, so did the rest of the horses, including Spike’s poor ill-named Buffy.

Spike looked on in stunned amazement as the formerly docile beasts charged by him and used teeth and hooves to attack the demons, their poor riders hanging on for dear life. In less than five minutes, Spike saw the end of a battle that should have cost him his life.

As he looked down at the carnage, the Slayer of Slayers was at a loss for words for once in his life. He walked slowly over and picked up the sword that Matthew had dropped and quipped, “Well, if this isn’t a bundle of dog doo doo and a bowl of cat piss.”

Meanwhile, back at the wagons, Buffy was seething at Spike’s attitude, wondering if he had been born this much of an asshole or if he had had to work at it. The part that wigged her out the most was the fact that her knees were still trembling a good five minutes after he had gone. The vamp had lips that should be outlawed…and that tongue!

“Milady?” Aeryn’s voice came from her right. “The bows Lord William asked for are finished.”

“Huh?” Buffy was amazed that they could be finished so quickly. “But you just started yesterday!”

“And she just finished this morn, Milady.” Aeryn smiled at her mistress.

“Well, there are only the two, milady,” Slinky said modestly, preening under their obvious approval. “But I have three arrows as well.”

Buffy took one of the finished bows, marveling at it’s sleek lines. Unlike the rough bows she had envisioned, it was clear that the hands of a master had carved these. The weapon stood at nearly six foot high when unstrung and was a recurve, not a true long bow. At the center point of the length, it had been carved in an oval shape that was three inches long and two inches thick. About eight inches in either direction from the center, it tapered back up to around six inches wide and maybe an inch thick, before gradually slimming down at the curves at either end. The bow Buffy held was finished with a shiny gold veneer to it. The other, however, was pure Spike. Its finish was so dark that she could barely make out the grain of the wood.

Buffy tested the pull and realized quickly that only she or Spike could use these. No one else would be strong enough.

“Okay.” Buffy grinned. “These are great, but for the rest, you might want to make them smaller. Remember, you guys are gonna have to be able to string them and use them.”

Wanting to show off a bit, Buffy quickly strung, drew, and fired—all in one motion. Her arrow hit dead center of a knothole on a tree nearly fifty yards away.

“We need to train all of you to shoot like that,” Buffy informed them blithely. The women looked on, truly interested for once, unlike their other attempts to teach them to use weapons.

Giles would be wigged, Buffy thought repressing a grin. She doubted that he even realized that she had been paying attention when he taught.

On the heels of that thought came the realization that hit her like a physical blow. Giles is dead. He’ll never see me shoot a bow again.

Usually, these kind of thoughts only came at night and Spike held her as she cried, but now, with Spike off trying to keep them fed, she felt the full weight of her loss. She felt like crumbling to her knees as counted up her dead. Mom, I’m sorry I never told you the truth. Xander. God, Angel hated Xander even with a soul. And she doubted she would ever see her Willow shaped friend again.

In seconds her anger gave way to rage, her vision blurred and reddened at the edges as she vowed, Angel, if I ever see you again, it will take you months to die!

“Milady?” Aeryn questioned nervously from her right. “Are you all right?”

“You do know that William and I aren’t from your world, right?” Buffy asked the assembled women, Needing to give voice her grief, Buffy continued, “In our world, Spike and I were enemies.”

And Buffy launched into their tale.

~~~~----~~~~~

It took Buffy longer than she had thought it would to tell her tale, and she was surprised at the reactions of the women. There were no smiles or laughter, of course, but also no tears or sadness, just a dumbfounded look of amazement on their faces.

“I think we need to take Lord William his bow,” the one called Oracle spoke up. She shot a look at the smith that had the other woman hastily agreeing.

“Yes, Milady, I’m sure he would want to see it immediately.”

A thoroughly bewildered Buffy allowed herself to ushered to a horse and was soon following along behind the four women as they headed off in the same direction Spike had taken.


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